<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The bells of regret by Cheiyunn</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567412">The bells of regret</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheiyunn/pseuds/Cheiyunn'>Cheiyunn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A3! (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Weddings, basically sakyo regretting stuff, im so sorry in advance, small mentions of azami i guess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:33:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheiyunn/pseuds/Cheiyunn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The pair of violets that sit on the back of each chair further mocking him and his spoken words, almost staring him directly in the eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Furuichi Sakyou/Tachibana Izumi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The bells of regret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>//ack I was feeling some sakyoizu angst, forgive me, its the first time I've written a story outside of classwork</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The light from the stained glass windows bounce off his glasses as he tries to ignore the excited whispers of the crowd. The pair of violets that sit on the back of each chair further mocking him and his spoken words, almost staring him directly in the eyes. With the clicks of Fushimi’s camera pang in his chest, as a constant reminder of where he is. Every passing second, every tick of clock, all the different noises passing around him, rang in his ears.</p><p> </p><p>He chooses to open his phone to try to calm down, the messenger app contact screen popping open. Photos from the troupe members in the waiting room, the same which left him sick in the stomach. He couldn’t even say anything to her, nothing.</p><p>His finger scrolls down to her contact, viewing all their past messages. Looking at them now, he could tell that his messages were far from optimistic and more blunt than he had thought in the past. </p><p>--    --    --</p><p>
  <span class="u"> Izumi Tachibana:  </span>
</p><p>Do you love me?</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> Sakyo Furuichi (Me):  </span>
</p><p>Yes. ✓✓</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> Izumi Tachibana:  </span>
</p><p>Forever?</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> Sakyo Furuichi (Me):   </span>
</p><p>Probably ✓✓</p><p>Do you love me? ✓✓</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> Izumi Tachibana:  </span>
</p><p>Of course! </p><p>--    --    --</p><p>He wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions on text. Maybe if he doted on her more, they wouldn’t have had the nasty breakup that was. Of course, he was mostly focused on troupe plays and the financial situation of the company, but maybe if he had chosen his words more carefully, he wouldn’t have had to see her face that hurt. Maybe if he was just more upfront with his feelings and didn’t beat around the bush every time. </p><p> </p><p>Blurry photos of her scattered his phone gallery. Tanabata fireworks, amusement park dates, even the goofy selfies she took during practices. Her smile, her eyes, her <em> everything </em>. Even if it was all over, those days felt just like yesterday. Just yesterday she would be holding his hand and sharing a drink. Just yesterday she would come to cuddle with a mug of hot cocoa under one blanket on those chilly nights and peck his cheek at night whenever he fell asleep on his desk working. He remembers Miyoshi deleting that photo off his Instablam a while back. </p><p> </p><p>If he just did so much as raise his head, he would see someone else waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Jealousy, guilt, remorse, welled in his stomach, the more the scene prolonged. He was always okay with watching a movie even after the ending was spoiled but for now for some reason, he wanted to leave the cinema as soon as possible, he wanted to get out.  </p><p> </p><p>The cathedral doors open, she stepped in, in the same dress they had been looking at a few months ago, joking around. Memories of those days spill into his head, memories he didn’t want the most at a time like this, as a sour taste fills his mouth. The pearls on the white dress reflect on the window light, as his heart slowly bleeds out. </p><p>The bouquet of violets in his hand as he follows the other troupe members down the aisle ridiculing him and his unanswered feelings. He hands her the bouquet with a smile, tears on the verge of spilling from behind the glasses. </p><p> </p><p>“I will always wish for you happiness”</p><p> </p><p>Words that he has never wished to say to her. Words that even the younger him would have beat him up to death for saying. What would his younger self have said if he had seen this scene? What was he supposed to say? That he too was disappointed in himself?</p><p> </p><p>Her soft smile directed towards him through the veil as she received the flowers, everyone’s gaze directed at him, it was too much. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No. Don’t show me such a face. Please. No more Izumi. Please, stop it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His tears spilled as she walked on towards the end of the aisle. Now gone completely cold, his fingers twitch as she stands by side with the groom; a man not him. Everything is a blur, nothing was right, he didn’t want this, but he no longer had the guts to say any more. He could feel Azami lightly brushing his arm, but couldn’t dare to look him in the eyes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bon knows. Bon knows that I still have these feelings. Bon knows I screwed up. Don’t look at me Bon. Please, not now. You’re free to beat me up after this but just for now, don’t look at the mess that I've become.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her face from the side of the veil, as their eyes meet for just a moment. His feet impaled to the ground beneath him, even if he wanted to run to her. The distance between them being only a few centimeters away, suddenly felt far, too far. There wasn’t even a reason for him to interject by this point. </p><p> </p><p>The couple’s blessing was said, they exchanged rings but the entire ceremony fell deaf to him. His heartbeat ringing in his ears, the throbbing in his head that won’t go away, the tears that continued to spill, as he bit down on his tongue and cast her a smile. </p><p>His heart felt like there were violets protruding from the inside, wrapping around his lungs, and crushing them for every breath he took. His breath falling quick and short, as an invisible thread wraps around his neck. A numbness itching down his legs, paired with the constant pounding of his chest, his throat constricting, he almost felt like throwing up just looking at the scene.</p><p> </p><p>As he watched her throw the bouquet from afar, he could see a younger version of him, staring. He averted his eyes as the illusion crumbled away. </p><p>Unlocking his phone to see his gallery, photos of her flood into his view for the last time. </p><p>One tap on the button</p><p>
  <span class="u">‘Delete all’</span>
</p><p>The warning message</p><p>
  <span class="u">‘Are you sure you want to delete all photos in this album? They will be unable to recover.’</span>
</p><p>popping up, as tears and a trembling finger click</p><p>
  <span class="u"> ‘Proceed’.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, this play’s outcome could have changed. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>